The Screens Have Eyes
by IronIsraeliButterfly
Summary: Jenny sees something that makes her feel... jealous? Compromised? ZIBBS


_Sorry such a long time, broke three fingers in a krav maga recertification._

_Night-time in NCIS._

The lights were darkened and there were few people in the NCIS building. However, Director Sheppard was sitting in her office, watching the inactivity around the building. Her eye fell upon the video feed from the team directly below her. Jethro Gibbs was doing something at his desk, and Ziva David was typing away. Then Ziva looked around, decided there was no one there, and went over to Jethro's desk and then placed herself in his lap, nuzzling into his neck.

Jenny sat up, riveted. What was Ziva doing? In all the time she had known the assassin, she had never seen herself do something so impulsive. She wondered what Gibbs would do.

But all he did was put his arms around and kiss her forehead, something she returned, but on his jaw. She leaned against his shoulder and he began to stroke her hair, whispering into her ear.

Jenny wondered how this relationship came to fruition. Ziva seemed perfectly at home in his arms, as if this was something she did often after the rest of the team left. It was something carefully hidden, disguised, so that only the two of them knew about its existence. Jenny remembered being the woman Jethro loved, the one he coddled and made love to in the dead of the night. However, she never saw this tender side of him, the way he caressed her cheek or the way he kissed her, which such love and passion, yet with such gentleness, as if she was a china doll that he feared breaking.

Ziva said something, and they both laughed, Gibbs breaking into a wide smile. Then he sobered, and looked at Ziva again, and said something. And then she placed her hands on his cheeks and began kissing him with such passion that Jenny thought the screen would explode. And he returned it, making the perfect kiss even more perfect, deepening it. Her hands wandered to behind his shoulders, as if steadying herself. His hands wandered also, to the hem of her shirt, and then found their way under.

Jenny watched them both bursting with emotion. And something broke inside of her, as she wished Ziva was not there but it was she, Jenny, who was sitting on that gray fabric swivel chair, kissing Jethro with all of her might. But she had made her choice, and now, Ziva was making out with the man she, unfortunately, loved.

Then they paused for air, and Ziva said something, her eyes bright and pleading. Jenny imagined the words with a sardonic smile. _"Take me home, Jethro, please_." And Gibbs smiled, and nodded, and put his hand on her stomach. He said something, and Ziva nodded. She then said something, and he smiled again, lovingly, and resumed the stroking of her hair as he looked upon her with love and awe and wonderment.

And Jenny was about to explode.

The next morning, Ziva and Gibbs walked in at their usual times, the way they usually did. Gibbs and Ziva did not give each other any special looks, they did not act if they were in a highly romantic relationship. Jenny monitored it all day on her screen, neglecting her duties.

She had to give them credit, they were certainly good. They did not let their romance get into their work, even when they were alone together in the office.

But Jenny could not and would not let it slide. She walked down the stairs from her lofty position and ended up at Gibbs' desk, clutching a cup of coffee, which she raised to her lips. "I need to talk to you in your office," she said with a smile. Gibbs raised his eyebrows but played along with her. She left the cup of coffee on his desk.

As they walked into the lift, she took a deep breath.

"You know, Gibbs, rule fifty-one. It's really applicable. I've been thinking, and I realize I made a mistake in Paris."

"So?" Gibbs asked.

"I know, rule number twelve, but—"

"Jen, it's not going to happen. I have someone right now."

"Someone who is twenty years younger than you? Is she having your baby, is that the idea? What are you doing now, just screwing with your partners and then you leave them?"

"No, and this is my personal life. I don't—"

"I want to be part of your personal life. I want to have your baby! I want to wash your socks and cook your dinner!"

"You're years too late, Jen. You should have told me that back in Paris. And yes, Ziva and I are having a baby together. And yes, Ziva has consented to be my wife."

"When... when did this happen?"

"A couple of years ago, Jen, when you told her to be on my team. Well, she's planning on being Mrs Gibbs and I wouldn't have it any other way."


End file.
